


the dilemma

by jade304



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Crush, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sleepwalking, no actual sex dreams are described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 22:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade304/pseuds/jade304
Summary: It’s not the first time he’s had weird sex dreams about his shield.It’s not even the tenth.





	the dilemma

Regis is going to scream.

He is going to scream, and all four of the others will immediately drop whatever they’re doing to come running and worry over him. This predicament isn’t worrying at all.

Just.

Irritating.

And awkward.

He lays there face-up in his sleeping bag for a while, deciding whether or not it’s worth the hassle of getting up. It sounds like the others are moving about already, and he can smell that Weskham’s started breakfast, but getting up and eating means he has to make an _entrance_ since he’s the last one to wake, and look them all in the eye as he walks over to the camp chairs, and this doesn’t feel like the choice he wants to make at the moment.

Fortunately, someone makes the choice for him when he hears the tent flap open and something soft and vaguely jacket-feeling hits the foot of his sleeping bag.

“Up and at ‘em, highness,” they say, and _of course_ it’s Clarus. Of course it is.

 

 

It’s not the first time he’s had weird sex dreams about his shield.

It’s not even the tenth.

They’re more awkward now, though, because all five of them are sharing two tents, and more often than not he gets shoved into a sandwich of Clarus-Cor-Regis, of which he is usually the sandwich filling. This means he wakes up with Clarus sleeping stiff as a log beside him, and several of Cor’s limbs overlapping his face. Sometimes this means _he’s_ the one who ends up waking up on top of Clarus, and that is the worst possible outcome. At least Cor is kind of cute.

(Clarus is kind of cute, too, in a different way. A way that he is not going to think about. Because that makes this entire thing fifty times worse.)

He wakes up extremely early one morning to find Cor already gone – he does that, sometimes, going out to go practice with his swords out in the small window of time between daemons disappearing and the sunrise in earnest. Clarus is still asleep next to him, and Regis is…

Regis is spooning him.

Very gently, he tries to extract himself from his spot, but Clarus sniffs and rolls over. Regis freezes; they’re now facing each other. Clarus’s face is probably three inches from his. He looks...handsome when he’s sleeping. What? He didn’t just think that. Not at all. No.

Regis shoves him away; Clarus’s eyelids flutter, and Regis quickly rolls over onto his stomach and feigns waking up as his companion slowly blinks.

“Reg? What are you...doing...”

He yawns. Regis sits there.

That could’ve gone worse, all things considered.

In about five seconds, it does get worse, because Cid storms into their tent without a word besides,

“Have either one of you loverboys seen Cor?”

 

 

They stay in Lestallum that night, even though Cor seems to be in relatively stable condition, now. Clarus had come back with concern written all over his face, and two of them sat in silence. They aren’t really sure how to proceed from here – Altissia is a ways away, and Regis has enough connections in the city to get them there in quicker time, but Cor’s impulsiveness has at least Clarus doubting whether he should be allowed to continue on with them.

They retire for the night, and Regis has even more stress dreams about them dropping all plans and heading for Taelpar Crag, hoping and praying to whatever Astral is listening in that he isn’t heading for the ruins within.

Somehow, in the dream, they decide that an hour’s trip at best demands a stop for the night. Nighttime has fallen at nine a.m., happens all the time, and they begin to set up camp.

He has dreams like this often – night falling early in the day. It always leaves him with a strange, nervous feeling in his chest, and he watches the sun dip below the horizon with Clarus as they set up the tent.

“Cor will be fine,” Clarus says. Regis knows he’s dreaming as he says this, because he _just_ said it before they went to bed, and he has more feeling in his hands as they work.

Going to bed is another thing, because the minute Regis’s sleep brain sees “ah, bed,” and dream-Clarus standing right there, dream-Clarus takes the initiative and gets to kissing him.

 _Yes,_ Regis thinks, _I am very stressed out and worried for my friend. I am going to make out with my other friend. This will surely solve all my problems._

Dreams are strange in that way – although he’s heard of people being able to control their dreams, especially when they’re lucid like this, he can’t seem to get Clarus to knock it off. He doesn’t particularly want to, though – only a nagging voice that says “this is going to make for a very awkward morning, you know,” makes him want to stop, and honestly? He’s tired. That voice is annoying. He is going to make out with his dream-friend and he will enjoy it, thank you very much.

Dream-Clarus picks Regis up and dumps him on his sleeping bag, which feels much more like a plush mattress beneath him, and crawls on top of him. Regis yanks him down to kiss him again, because whatever. He’ll deal with it in the morning. Right now he’s dreaming and it won’t matter and it’s _fine._

“Can I help you?” Clarus asks, voice quiet, as Regis kisses him.

“I’m kissing you, Clarus” Regis says. A very clear explanation. He’s great at that in council meetings.

“I see,” Clarus says. He laughs, but it sounds nervous. “Maybe you can wake up sometime, your highness.”

Regis wakes up.

He’s sitting on top of Clarus.

Clarus’s face is bright red.

He nearly falls off the bed in his attempt to disengage; he and Clarus share one side of the room, and Cid and Weskham sleep nearby. He prays to the gods that neither of them are awake right now.

“I’m...Clarus, I –“

“Another dream again?”

He’s told Clarus about the _lucid_ dreams in the past, yes, but not the weird sex dreams. Those aren’t usually cause for concern. Now they’re overlapping and he looks silly and he’s probably blushing, too, giving the whole thing away. At least his shield doesn’t look upset; he’s nearly grinning at him.

“It wasn’t even about you. It was...Aulea. It was a nice dream about my beautiful fiancée and you ruined it.”

“That’s why you were saying my name, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh, certainly. We talk about you all the time. _All_ the time.”

“Mhm. Come back to bed, your highness.”

Not that he has any choice otherwise unless he wants to crawl in with Cid, he reluctantly comes back. Ignores the way that particular phrasing makes him shiver, praying Clarus doesn’t take note of it.

“Goodnight, loverboy,” Clarus says jokingly, rolling over so that his back is facing Regis.

He tries his hardest to sleep, and to not repeat this incident ever again.

 

 

He wakes up the next morning.

It’s awkward in the end after all, but Clarus, bless him, doesn’t make any mention of it.

Which is _really_ nice of him, because the instant Regis resumed his dream, they had picked up right where they left off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> episode ardyn q&a hinting at clarus making an appearance is making my little regclar heart rise once again from the grave


End file.
